Czar Trump Stops the Presses - for the "Poetry or Death" comp

The great oppressor brought writing truth to a sudden grinding halt
And the world was fooled into believing it was all the Russians fault
While the poets were all driven into hiding in the dark deep underground
Scratching prophesies in rhymes on walls to be spoken without sound
Until one day when the unknown bard will rise to write us free of this prison
For the press is dead, executed as false claims of fake news have arisen
All that's left is for a silent society of dead poets to raise their mighty quills
And stab them down on the empty pages to pen their independent wills
To make a declaration that will constitute a new world where freedom will not rest
Where those elected to serve US will be kept in check by the freedom of the press!